Hetalia Theories
by xXMidnightRomanceXx
Summary: The reason behind me making this series, is exposing theories several people on the Internet. So basically, the theory is circulated around the personifications, based on their personalities on the show. Enter, and you shall see...
1. Chapter 1: Arthur

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 1:**

**Arthur**

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Arthur hurriedly ran into his house, slamming the door behind him, throwing his keys on his couch. He slammed open his bathroom door and ran to the cupboard. Arthur grabbed a orange see-through bottle of pills and popped the lid open. He put one while pill into his mouth and drunk from the bathroom tap. He felt nothingness. Just like every damn day. Arthur stared at the label, on the bottle of pills, and re-read it. "A mix of hallucinogenic." He said with a smile. Arthur read the back of the bottle. "One a day or hallucinations may become out of control. Yeah right! That's exactly what I need!" He read. Arthur popped the lid open again and swallowed another one. He chuckled and basked in the euphoria from the hallucinogenic. He placed the pill bottle on the counter. He looked up to see Flying Mint Bunny in front of him.

Arthur laughed happily as Flying Mint Bunny snuggled against him. "Where are the fairies and Rainbow Unicorn?" He asked. Flying Mint Bunny made a motion that looked like it shrugged. Flying Mint Bunny begun to fly around Arthur's head. He frowned slightly. "I...still fell lonely. Ever since I've been fighting with Alfred..." Arthur said to himself. He stared over at the pill bottle on the counter. "Maybe...well...one more can't hurt." Arthur said. Flying Mint Bunny laughed and nudged the pills towards Arthur. He smiled at Flying Mint Bunny. "This is why you're my friend. All ways helping me." He said. Arthur grabbed the bottle and swallowed another one.

The feeling of euphoria washed over Arthur again. A sense of wellbeing and relaxation consumed him. Arthur's vision became burred slightly, as he wiped his eyes. After a while, he adapted to the slight blur and smiled. He turned around to see Flying Mint Bunny, two pink fairies and one leprechaun. They came up to him and circled around him. "Hey everyone!" Arthur greeted, as the fairies waved their wands, and green sparkles flew everywhere. Arthur smiled and spun around. All of the mythical creatures pointed at the pills. "Take more! Take more! So we can see our unicorn friends!" They all shouted together. Arthur was so caught up in everything, he grabbed his pill bottle and downed two more. "Five pills now. Oh well." Arthur said with a smile.

Green sparkles were flying everywhere. Two blue unicorns appeared and Arthur smiled brightened. Arthur felt euphoric. He felt like he was on Cloud 9. Soon enough, Arthur was unable to think. He was lost in the drugs and hallucinations. Soon enough, Arthur had difficulty pulling away from the drugs. So, he took two more. "Seven pills." He counted. Arthur's vision blurred even more, his head was dizzy, he felt nauseas and leant over the toilet. One of the unicorns nudged Arthur's arm. "Oh god." Arthur muttered. Arthur's left arm and fingers felt completely numb. He felt anxious about anything and everything. Arthur begun to vomit. He vomited up an array of dark colours. Arthur remembered Alfred, Francis and everyone else. He felt anger and sadness take over.

"I don't even care anymore!" Arthur shouted, as he stood up. Flying Mint Bunny and all the other creatures disappeared. He grabbed the pills and downed too many to count. Arthur swore violently and fell on his knees. He begun to cry, feeling the negative effects take over him. Arthur overdosed badly. He lied on the cold, white tiles. Arthur silent sobs wracked through out his body, as tears streamed down his cheeks.

**"I'm so sorry Alfred, Francis, everyone else. Please forgive me."**

Alfred walked into Arthur's house, smiling like an certain Italian. "Hey Arthur! Dude, I'm sorry for acting like a jerk! Where you at?!" He shouted. Alfred was met with no reply. "Arthur?" He called. Still, no reply. Alfred rose a questioning eyebrow as he searched through out the house. He looked at the couch to see Arthur's keys. "The hell?" Alfred muttered to himself. He noticed the light coming out the slightly open bathroom door. "Once again, the hell?" He muttered to himself again. Alfred slowly walked over to the bathroom. _Since he didn't answer me, he must be doing something really important..._ He advised himself. Alfred drew nearer to the bathroom. He opened the bathroom door fully.

"Holy shit! Arthur!" Alfred shouted. He ran over to the British man laying on the floor, and picked his body up slightly. Alfred shook Arthur's body kind of roughly. "Arthur! Stop messing around! Arthur!" Alfred shouted desperately. Tears streamed down his cheeks. He hurriedly whipped out his phone and dialled for an ambulance. Alfred stared at Arthur's dead body. Alfred saw Arthur was **smiling**.

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******The theory based on England/Arthur is that, he is a drug addict, died of overdose of hallucinogenic drugs. That's explains his 'imaginary friends' in the show.**


	2. Chapter 2: Alfred

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 2:**

**Alfred**

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Alfred stood in the bathroom, washing out his mouth. He stared at the toilet, tempted to vomit again. Alfred shook his head and left the bathroom. He was about to go to his room, but his mother called him. "Alfred! Can you please come for a second?" She called. Alfred trudged to the kitchen, feeling sicker than usual. "Yes, mom?" He asked. His mother smiled sweetly at him and gave him ten dollars. "Can you please go buy a bottle of soft drink? Also, buy something to eat for yourself." She said with a smile. Alfred gave his mother a fake smile. "Sure mom." He said, grabbing his coat from the couch. Alfred left the house, the door quietly closing behind him. His mom stared at the closed door. She and her husband have noticed their son losing a lot of weight. A freighting amount. It was hard to tell from the baggy clothing he wore. His mother sighed and continued making food.

Alfred stepped outside in the cold winter air. It was snowing slightly as he walked past a street, to the supermarket. Alfred walked inside the supermarket and walked to the soft drink aisle. He grabbed one bottle of soft drink and walking over to pay, but a small packet of lollies caught his blue eyes. He attempted to look away, and continue walking, but his urge took over. Alfred grabbed the candy and walked over to pay for it. He payed for the two items and left the supermarket. Alfred felt the temperature dropped drastically but ignored it. He decided to take a longer way back home, as he walked through the park. Alfred sat on the snow covered ground, leaning against the trunk of a tree.

Opening up the candy, Alfred lost all thought, as he hurriedly begun to unwrap and eat the candy. Barely a minute later, a quarter of the lollies remained. Alfred felt sickened as ate another lolly. _How the hell can I eat this?! I just ate dinner!_ He shouted at himself. Alfred kneeled over and shoved two fingers down his throat. He continued to make himself vomit up the candy. It was night, as Alfred stared at the, now brown, snow. He took off his glasses and ran his fingers through his hair. Alfred thought he vomited up the lollies, but he was wrong. He put his glasses back on and he noticed a slight discolour in the vomit. Alfred whipped out his phone, so he could use the light to see the vomit. He stared at the snow, in shock.

It was red. It wasn't food. It was blood. Alfred his body begin to shake violently, as he exploded in a cold sweat. He used the tree behind him to help him stand, and he picked up the plastic bag with the bottle of soft drink. Some other people would think it's light. To Alfred, who's body had became weaker, it seemed like the heaviest thing on Earth. Alfred could barely withstand the weight of it, as he walked over to the side walk. He couldn't even make it there, as he fell a pile white snow. Alfred couldn't even move. His body had become so weak.

**"Maybe now everyone will stop calling me fat?"**

_A sixteen year old boy, by the name of Alfred F. Jones, was found dead in a park. Near a tree, was snow that was covered in blood. Near the snow, was a bunch of lollies and candy wrappers. He was found holding a plastic bag with soft drink in it. Alfred F. Jones died of anorexia. The parents stated "We noticed our son's drastic change in attitude and appearance. But we didn't say anything". Further investigation..._

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**Many believe that America/Alfred's theory is that; he is a regular teenager, who died of anorexia nervosa. This explains his love of fatty foods, such a McDonalds and takeaway. To me, this theory could be realistic. But I doubt any of these theories are real. To be honest, believe what you want.**


	3. Chapter 3: Francis

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 3:**

**Francis**

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"Oi! Francis! Get you fucking ass over here!" A annoyed male shouted. Francis walked over to him and was pushed to the ground. The male punched and kicked Francis. "That'll teach you to try and escape." The male said, smirking. He spat in Francis's face and walked off. Francis sat up and sat on the bed, his body shaking. "Francis?" A voice called. He looked over at the door to see Michelle (Seychelles), wearing her normal, aqua blue dress. But, as all too usual, her dress is tattered and covered in some blood. Francis's clothes were also tattered, pretty badly. "Yes, Cosette?" He asked. Michelle frowned at sat next to him on the bed, placing her hand lovingly on his arm. He mused his wince from the pain, making Michelle pull back. "Come and have something to eat." She said. Francis smiled at her but shook his head.

"I'm not that hungry." Francis replied. Michelle stared at her clenched fists, in her lap. "You need to eat something. You've lost so much weight and you're never hungry..." She trailed off. Michelle stared Francis straight in the eyes. "You're body is weak, and you're always fatigue." She said. Francis smiled and ruffled the girl's messy, long hair, making Michelle smile. She had lost her ribbons two weeks ago, so her hair was about the length of her chest. "I'm fine." He assured. "Michelle!" A voice shouted. Michelle's smile dropped instantly, as she stood up. "I'll be back soon." She said, kissing Francis's cheek. "Take care." He said. Michelle left the room, closing the door behind her.

Francis lied down in his broken bed. He attempted to close his eyes, but couldn't. As usual. Two weeks ago, Francis somehow lost the ability to close his eyes. He felt sick, he thought he had a virus. But Francis didn't know he had AIDS, since he was always denied medical attention. And he was dying from it. _I, myself, know that my body has become weaker. Thinking back, what Cosette said about my body, was right. At least she doesn't know I can't close my eyes. Or the fact I've had two seizures in the last week. _He thought to himself. Francis tried to sit up, but his muscles wouldn't let him. He felt his breathing becoming noisier, and he knew what was happening. _I'm going to die...right? _He asked himself, a lone tear streaming down his cheek.

Francis felt another seizure coming, he felt the slight tingle sensation in his mouth. Francis felt his body spasm violently, which made him fall from his bed, onto the wooden floor. He felt his tounge being shoved down his throat. He tried as hard as he could to grab on to something, anything, so he could try to fight the seizure off. Little did Francis know, he grabbed the leg of broken bedside table. Francis pulled on the leg, making the bedside table fall on top of him. The French boy felt another tear fall down his cheek. "_Putain (damn)_." He whispered, feeling the heavy weight of the bedside table, on him. He felt his body shaking and spasming violently, come to a slow stop. Francis closed his eyes and felt his heartbeat slowing down.

**"Sorry I'm disappearing so suddenly Cosette. At least I'll be with Jean of Arc."**

Michelle was walking down the corridor, to go to Francis's room. The male that called her, was the same man who punched and kicked Francis. _I'm really worried about Francis... I think he may have AIDS, he has most of the signs. Losing a drastic amount of weight, losing appetite, becoming fatigue and weaker. He doesn't know, that I know, that he has been having seizures. Also, I've noticed that Francis **barely** closes his eyes. That's...not normal._ She thought to herself, thinking intensely about the French boy. She sighed as stood before Francis's old, wooden door, that was covered in cracks and splinters. Michelle knocked on the door, wincing as splinters pierced her skin. "Francis?" She called through the door. No response.

She opened the wooden door, and what she saw, made her fall on her knees. "F-Francis!" She shouted, running over to him. Michelle begun to shake his body, as tears streamed down her cheeks. "No! Francis!" Michelle cried. "You can't leave me! You can't! Please Francis!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks, and they fell onto Francis's cheeks, as Michelle held him. Sobs were violently wracking through out her body as she cried. She stared at her French friend, the boy she loved dearly. Francis was like a big brother to Michelle. Michelle carried Francis back onto the bed. She sat down on the bed, tears streaming down her rosy pink cheeks. Michelle played lightly with Francis's hair. She laid down beside him and left her head against his chest. No heartbeat. One last tear fell down her cheek, as she fell asleep on the chest of the man she loved.

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**The theory behind France/Francis is that; he is/was a rape victim, male prostitute/sex slave, died of AIDS. This explains his pervertedness. This one is more of a '...' to me. I have no idea on this one... This was also REALLY hard for me to write. If you're wondering why France called Seychelles 'Cosette' is the reason that I saw it online. I could be wrong *shrugs***


	4. Chapter 4: Yao

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 4:**

**Yao**

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"Aiya! Watch where you're going, aru!" Yao shouted from where he stood on the kitchen floor. The man holding a pot rolled his eyes and walked away. Yao sat up, picking up the remains of the glass cup he dropped. He winced as he cut himself. Yao walked over to the bin and threw the remains in. Yao stared at the messy kitchen and groaned. The kitchen was total chaos. Many chefs and cooks were running around the kitchen, holding pots filled with soups, and magnificent dishes. A woman ran into Yao, making him groan in pain. It was enough the owner of the restaurant beats him, now the staff are too? Yao walked over to the sink and begun to wash plates and cups. He was screaming in his mind, as the pain in his hand was overpowering him.

Yao wiped his hands with the red towel and stared at his hands. His skin was peeling away and he had small gashes. Yao bit his lip and looked away. "Oi! Ching Chong! Start preparing the steamed vegetables!" His boss shouted. Yao ignored the hurtful remark and walked to the ingredient fridge, and took some vegetables. He also grabbed a pan. Yao walked back inside the kitchen, and turned on the stove top. He noticed that there was a lot of commotion in the kitchen. But as usual, Yao ignored it. "AHH! CRAP!" A female shouted. Yao looked over to see a woman on the floor, covered in soup. She was crying and clutching her ankle.

The young Chinese boy felt sorry for her, and he put down everything he held, on the counter top. Yao walked over to her and kneeled beside her. "Are you alright, aru?" Yao asked. The unknown lady glared at him. "This is all your fault!" She shouted. "Why the hell wouldn't you put cautions signs, you retard?!" The woman stood up and slapped him. "Do your job right, you stupid immigrant!" She then walked away, her long black hair swaying beautifully. Yao held his cheek in shock, the pain still there. _Aiya! That woman sunk her nails into me!_ He thought, slowly standing. He continued to mop the filthy floor and ignored the stinging in his hands. "Good thing she slapped you. I have half a mind to slap you, as well." Yao's boss snickered.

Yao, as always, ignored the rotten man, and continued his job. He heard screaming and shouts of alarming, but he tuned them out. _They're probably shouting because of something stupid...aru!_ Yao thought. Two chefs ran past him, flailing their arms around. "RUN!" Yao's boss shouted, knocking Yao to the floor. The Chinese boy was kneeling on the ground, staring at his bruised hands. He heard a lot of noise behind him, so he whipped around and stared in shock. Flames where soaring to the ceiling, smoke and fire engulfing the room. Yao looked around to see everyone had ran away. He coughed as the black smoke surrounded him. Yao ran over to the door, trying to escape and get outside.

_It's...stuck?!_ Yao shouted in his head. He tried to break down the door but to no avail. The door was lodged with something, or looked from the outside. Yao turned around to see the flames coming closer. He ran over to the fire extinguisher. Yao attempted to put out the flames but failed in doing so, the flames were too strong. He had lost all hope by then. Yao coughed and looked over at the window. It was too small to climb out of. _Maybe I can open the window, so that the smoke will go, aru! And so I can breathe...aru._ Yao ran over to the window, barely dodging flames. _Are you kidding me, aru?!_ The window was also locked. Yao picked up the fallen fire extinguisher and tried to smash the window.

_It's all over, right aru?_ Yao questioned. He watched as his dirty shirt caught on fire. Yao didn't even bother to put the flame out. He chuckled deeply as he slid to the floor. Yao fell into a deep sleep, never to come back.

**"At least I'll be in a better place, aru..."**

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**This next theory is that Yao/China is a child labourer, who worked in a restaurant. He died in a structure fire. That's why he has good cooking skills.**


	5. Chapter 5: Ivan

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 5:**

**Ivan**

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Ivan sat up in his dirty bed, staring outside his cell. He looked over at his clock. 6:05 am. He noted. Ivan slowly ripped off his covers, rubbing his sore neck from sleeping on one pillow. Stupid sleep medicine has worn off. He thought. He heard the man across from his cell, murmuring in his sleep. He stood up and stretched, holding back his yawn. **Hurry up Ivan! LET'S GET THE HELL UP!** A hurried, male voice shouted. Ivan groaned and sat back down on his bed. **GET UP!** The same voice shouted. _**Leave us alone. We're **_**_tired_. _After all, we forgot to take our pills last night...right, Number 1?_ ** A soothing, male voice said. Ivan squeezed his eyes shout, trying to block **them** out. Yeah, them, the **monsters**. The ones Ivan despises so. "Get. Out. Of. My. Head." Ivan whispered through his teeth, closing his sore eyes.

He heard horrible noises, screaming, shouting, and the sound of blood splattering. Ivan whipped open his eyes, frantically staring around the room. The usual white, dirty walls were covered in blood. Ivan stared at the walls, disgust filling him. Ivan rubbed his eyes, to hear banging. He looked over to see mutant-like figures (monsters) banging on his cell bars. Ivan's purple/violet eyes were still frantically looking around. **They're going to kill you. **Ivan rolled his eyes, and lied back down on his dirty bed, closing his eyes. _**I have to agree with Number 1, Ivan. I hear them talking.**_**They're planning to kill you, Ivan. _Are you going to escape?_****Or are we going to be left for dead?! _What can we do?_**

"Shut up, Number 1, 2. They're not going to kill me." Ivan said aloud, trying to ignore the voices. **Let's leave Ivan to die, da Number 2? **Number 1 advised. _**I want to live! Let's get out of**_ **here!** Number 2 replied.

**They're coming! _They're coming! _They're coming! _They're coming!_ ****They're coming! ****__****They're coming!** **They're coming! ****__****They're coming!** ******They're ****coming!********They're coming!** **They're coming!**_ **They're coming!**_ Run! **_Run! _Run! _Run!_ ****LET'S ESCAPE NOW! NOW! NOW! _HURRY UP! KILL THEM ALL! NOW! NOW! HURRY, IVAN!_**

Ivan shot up and punched the cell bars, swearing under his breath in Russian. His in-humane strength destroyed the bars, making a loud siren was blaring out from the speaker. Ivan smirked and left the cage, running down the seemingly endless hallway. Five guards ran over to him, ready to tackle him to the ground. One of the men, wearing navy blue gloves, ran at Ivan. Ivan picked the guard up and snapped his spine. Ivan chuckled, hearing the monsters surrounding him chuckle as well. Another guard charged at him, making Ivan stumble back slightly. Ivan knocked the guard unconscious. The third guard was holding a needle, filled with a toxic poison, that would knock one unconscious. Ivan ran at him and kicked the needle out of his hand, slamming him down on the floor. The remaining guard ran off.

The large Russian man walked over to a water pipe, and pulled it from it's socket. He smirked and played with it in his hands. "Get him!" A voice shouted. Ivan whipped around to be tackled to the ground. He struggled to get the two guards off of him. **So weak, da Ivan? _You aren't going to take that from them, now are_**_ **you?**_Number 1 and Number 2 taunted. Ivan completely forgot to protect himself. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain under his rib cage. Ivan felt the weight on top of him disappear and he sat up. He could barely move. Ivan looked down to see a knife lodge where his right lung is. Ivan's gasped breathes came out, as he noticed the guards left him for dead. His vision begun to blur and darken. Ivan fell back onto his back. _**How sad...**_**Can't be helped.**

**"I guess my story didn't have a good ending..."**

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**I still love you Russia! This theory is that Ivan/Russia has schizophrenic. He died in a mental asylum. This explains his insane tendencies and childlike cruelty.**


	6. Chapter 6: Matthew

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 6:**

**Canada**

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Matthew sat in the corner of his broken down bed room, shivering violently. "Mama? Papa?" His soft voice was not to be heard. _This is my fourth day locked in my room. I'm so hungry. After everything that's been happening, I don't even remember what I look like..._ Matthew noted, his stomach quietly grumbling. He looked over at the small window to see the bright moon. He slightly shifted over to the window, smiling at the moonlight. The bright light warmed his broken down soul. Sometimes, Matthew's tongue would ache and that would make him want to touch the sores, near the corners of his mouth. His gums occasionally bleed as well. Matthew knew himself, that he was dying. Fatigue had taken over his body.

The Canadian boy was so hungry, that the feeling became all too familiar with him. His mind and body didn't even think of the hunger. Matthew's body has become so weak, he wasn't even strong enough to even _attempt _to escape his room. Matthew's adoptive parents locked him in his room and left. Matthew knew he was dying. He may be young, but he wasn't naïve. He laid down the hard, wooden floorboards, not caring about life itself. His hair was covered in a layer of dirt and had become greasy. Matthew's light blonde hair lost it's magnifying colour and sheen. It would often fall out as well. Matthew reached a shaking hand up, and swatted away the flies on his cheeks.

Matthew remembered reading an article about starvation. _If I remember correctly, when one is about to die from starvation, they have a heart attack. Well, we'll see what happens..._ Matthew stared at his small bedroom, if you could even call it a bedroom. The wall's paint was scratched off and blood was on the wall, **his** blood. Matthew couldn't help but stare solemnly at the wall. _Whenever Mama and Papa would get angry, they'd push me into that wall..._ Even though the Canadian wanted to cry, he couldn't. He had to be stronger than that. Matthew stored outside the small window, thinking hard. _I could attempt to smash the window. _Matthew tiredly crawled over to the wall under the window. Matthew couldn't get up, no matter how hard he tried.

He slid onto his knees, his body aching tiredly. Matthew's chest had begun to tighten, making him hold over his heart. Small, yet hurried, gulps of air were heard. He attempted to breathe deeply, but to no avail. Anxiousness filled him as light-headedness consumed him. The boy broke out into a cold sweat as his skin begun to feel slightly clammy. Fear and pain were running throughout Matthew's body. Coughs and splutters spilled out of his mouth, as he fell onto his stomach, making the pain even worse. Matthew felt nauseated and even weaker than before. _Am I having a heart attack?!_ He shouted in his head. Matthew rolled over onto his back and closed his dull, violet eyes. He felt his chest tighten even more. A lone tear fell down his cheek.

**"At least I'll be in a better place..."**

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**Matthew/Canada's theory is that he was a victim of child neglect. He sadly died of starvation. This explains why nobody notices him. Could be true...it's a possibility.**


	7. Chapter 7: Ludwig

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 7:**

**Ludwig**

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Ludwig stumbled down the dark alleyway, trying to find his way home. _Where am I? Who am I?_ He wondered. "Hey, you!" A angry male voice shouted. Ludwig whipped around and was greeted by a masked man. The masked man charged into Ludwig, making him fall. "Give me your money, asshole!" He shouted. Ludwig shook his head and tried to stand up. "Say hello to my bat!" The masked man shouted, picking up his back. Ludwig was about to block his attack, but was hit in the head with the bat. Ludwig fell to the ground, knocked unconscious. The masked figure ran away, not caring about him.

**.:Time Skip:.**

Gilbert sat in the white hospital room, staring at his brother, his red eyes glazed. He hung his head and allowed tears to stream down his cheeks, biting his lip, causing blood. There was a light knock on the door, opening up to reveal Elizabeta. "Szia, Gilbert." She greeted softly, walking over to the man. She rubbed his back, staring at Ludwig. "How long has he been in a coma for?" Elizabeta asked. Gilbert looked into her sad, green eyes. "So far, it's been seven days." He replied, his voice on the verge of breaking away. Elizabeta allowed a lone tear to fall down her cheek. She walked over to Ludwig's bed, where he laid motionless. Elizabeta smiled at Ludwig and moved his hair from his face.

"Good evening, Ludwig. Even though this is your seventh day in a coma, we're still rooting for you. We...know you'll wake up." Elizabeta greeted, staring at the German man. She leaned over the bed railing and kissed Ludwig's forehead. By then, tears were falling down her cheeks. Elizabeta slid down on her knees, sob wracking throughout her body. Gilbert saw this and kneeled next to her. "Hey Elizabeta, it'll be alright. He will wake up." He whispered, holding her. "I'm sorry for not being strong Ludwig, Gilbert." Elizabeta whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. Gilbert couldn't stop crying either, squeezing the Hungarian girl. There was a loud knock at the door. The couple looked over to see a doctor.

"Mr. Beilschmidt? Mrs. Héderváry?" The doctor called. Gilbert nodded and helped Elizabeta up, still holding her. The doctor nodded at the couple, before walking over to Ludwig. He begun to check some things out, while Gilbert and Elizabeta were talking quietly. "Maybe it's good news?" She asked, sitting next to him in a chair. Gilbert sadly smiled at her and nodded. "We can only hope." Gilbert replied, holding her hand. Elizabeta enlaced fingers with him and kissed his cheek. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." Elizabeta whispered into Gilbert's ear, making him smile. "Thank you." He thanked, kissing her hand. The doctor in the room had a solemn look etched on his face.

"Mr. Beilschmidt?" The doctor called again. "Yes? How is he?" Gilbert answered, standing up with Elizabeta by his side. The doctor walked over to the couple and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry Gilbert. But there's a 99.99% chance that...he won't wake up." He explained. Gilbert's eyes widened and he fell to the ground. "No...no way!" He muttered, tears coming back full force. Elizabeta sat beside him, rubbing his back and crying also. "I'll be back later on. I'm sorry." The doctor said, taking his leave. "Gilbert, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Elizabeta apologised, hiding her face. Gilbert hid his face in the crook of her neck. "I..." The Prussian was speechless, trying to contain his emotions.

**"He's going to disappear. Just like Old Man Fritz..."**

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**This theory is that Ludwig/Germany is a victim of memory loss, who died in a coma. This explains the Holy Roman Empire is Germany theory. A theory, explaining another theory...THEORYSEPTION!**


	8. Chapter 8: Feliciano

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 8:**

**Feliciano**

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"Ve~! Ludwig! Can you slow down!" Feliciano weakly shouted, breathing heavily. The German man jogged back over to him and glared angrily at him. "Mein Gott Feliciano! You are so lazy!" He shouted, walking away. "I'm over it, I'm going home." He said, disappearing from Feliciano's field of view. Feliciano fell onto his knees, feeling wet mud caking his legs. _Can't I ever do anything right? Ludwig is always helping me and I'm just so...ugh. Ludwig was right, I am weak._ He thought, fisting the grass below him. _I'm so sick of smiling and acting happy. _He bit his lip, a tear falling down his cheek, dropping onto his hand. Feliciano stared at the teardrop, lightly fingering it.

Feliciano stood up and ran out of the field, not looking back. He ran down the road to his house, breathing heavily. Feliciano fumbled with his keys, trying to open the door. Once unlocked, he ran inside, slamming the door behind him. Feliciano walked over to the wooden hallstand and slowly placed his silver keys on it. He looked into the mirror in front of him. Feliciano saw himself crying, blood and tears running down his cheeks. Mirror Feliciano's clothes were drenched in blood, just as much as his hands. Feliciano looked down to see his own clothes covered in blood. He stumbled back and blinked his eyes rapidly. He rubbed them before hurriedly opening them.

It was an illusion. Feliciano groaned and ran his fingers through his auburn hair. He walked over to the kitchen counter and stared at the fruit bowel. He grabbed a tomato and bit into it. "I eat some pasta." He said aloud, staring at the tomato. The Italian teenager smiled and bit into the tomato again. He walked over to the white refrigerator and grabbed the bowel of spaghetti, placing the whole tomato on top of it. Feliciano placed it onto the kitchen counter and begun searching through the fridge again. "No pasta sauce?!" He shouted. Feliciano groaned and grabbed tomato sauce and fetta. He chucked the ingredients next to the spaghetti and grabbed a plate and knife.

Feliciano placed the tomato onto the beige plate and picked up the sharp knife. He smiled and begun to finely chop the tomato up. He stared at the knife covered in tomato juice. Feliciano held it in front of his face, chuckling darkly. He brought the knife closer and licked the tomato parts off it, making him lightly cut his tounge. The flavour of blood filled his mouth, making him smile happily. "Blood is very nice..." He trailed off, staring at the half clean knife. He chuckled and looked down on the counter. Feliciano scratched the counter with the knife, creating a thin white and tomato red line. "White and red are a beautiful match." He said, staring at the knife.

The Italian pulled up the sleeves of his jacket and shirt, revealing his wrists. He fixed his hold around the knife. Feliciano placed the cold, metal knife against his wrist, making him shiver. _The knife feels good against my wrist..._ Feliciano aimed the vein in his wrist and slashed it. He groaned loudly watching the blood stream down his arm, and fall onto the white tiles. Feliciano chuckled and dug the knife deeper. He clenched his toes and fingers, immersing in the feeling. _It feels right...and nice._ He thought, pulling the knife away from his wrist. Feliciano flicked his right wrist, the one holding the knife. He laughed happily, like a child, as blood splattered over the white tiles and white cupboards.

Feliciano rolled his brown eyes as his grip tightened on the blood-drenched knife. He bit his lip and stabbed the knife into his wrist. He felt the knife almost go through his wrist. He felt his blood roll down his arms and onto the floor. Feliciano fell onto the ground and smiled as his head hit the floor. The Italian felt himself become tired as he closed his eyes.

**"Maybe I'll see Holy Roman Empire."**

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**Feliciano/Northern Italy's theory is that he hides his depression, and he died of suicide. Explains why he is always happy (undying happiness).**


	9. Chapter 9: Kiku

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 9:**

**Kiku**

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"Kiku? Please baby, can you come to bed?" The sultry woman pleaded, who was lying on the bed. Kiku smiled at warmly at her but shook his head. "No thank you, Sakura. I'll be working late tonight, so I'll be in the guest room." He explained, picking up his sliver laptop. Sakura glared angrily at him and stalked up to him. "Listen here Kiku! Every damn night you sleep, **alone**, in the guest room! For Kami's sake!" She angrily shouted at her husband. Sakura was right in front of Kiku's face, making Kiku gently pushed her away from him. "Sorry, Sakura, but work is very stressful." He explained, walking his wife to the bed, sitting down next to her. There was dead silence in the bedroom, gnawing at the Japanese man's insides.

"Kiku? Can we try for a baby?" Sakura asked, staring into Kiku's dark brown eyes. "What?!" He shouted, pulling away from his wife. "Come on Kiku. You promised me that you would." Sakura pleaded, crawling closer to him. Kiku chuckled awkwardly and slid away from her. He kept sliding away and fell off the bed. "Kami-sama!" She shouted. Kiku hurriedly stood up and looked away from his wife. She sighed and stood up as well, walking over to him. "Please, Kiku? We didn't even have sex on our wedding night. You didn't even sleep in the same bed as me." Sakura tried to persuade. Kiku smiled at her warmly. "Please Sakura, I'm begging you." She begged him, stroking his arm. He sighed at her antics.

"I'll get ready in the bathroom, wait for me on the bed." Kiku gave in, kissing Sakura's cheek. She giggled excitedly, walking over to the bed. He sighed again as he walked over to the bathroom. Kiku closed the door behind him, forgetting completely about locking it. He kneeled down and opened the cabinet below the sink. He begun searching frantically for scissors. Kiku grabbed the silver scissors and stood up straight. He stared at his reflection in the mirror, completely and utterly disgusted by it. _Remind again why I married her? Oh, yeah. Oka-sama and otou-sama (mum & dad)._ He rolled his dark brown eyes as he stared at the scissors. _No other choice, right?_ He wondered.

Kiku smiled sadly as he forced the silver scissors into his stomach. He groaned painfully as he felt himself become dizzy, as he lost a lot of blood. Kiku fell to the floor and pulled the scissors out of his stomach. He smiled at the red blood drenched on his hands and, now red, scissors. He gritted his teeth angrily and shoved the scissors deeper into the hole he made. "...A-ah!" Kiku quietly moaned out, lying on the white tiled floor. Light-headedness consumed him as he spat out red blood. He was reminded of what Feliciano had set in Art Class. _White and red are a beautiful colour combination! It reminds me of pasta sauce and delicious cheese!_ Kiku chuckled and blinked tiredly. _Feliciano was right, white and red blood look magnificent._

He slowly closed his dark brown eyes, as someone knocked on the bathroom door. "Kiku?" Sakura asked, slowly opening the door. She shrieked and kneeled down beside Kiku's cold, motionless body.

**"Forgive me Oka-sama, Otou-sama."**

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**Kiku/Japan was forced to be in an arranged marriage. Committed seppuku (another word for it is [hara-kiri] meaning 'stomach cutting'. Google it). Explains his insecurity and introvertedness.**


	10. Chapter 10: Gilbert

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 10:**

**Gilbert**

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"I am awesome, I am awesome, I am awesome." Gilbert repeated to himself, as he sitting in a trench, next to his younger brother Ludwig. "Remind who's the idiot that's making us do this?" An angry male voice shouted, sitting in front of the brothers. It was Roderich, a friend of the German brothers. "The idiot that is supposedly saving our countries life." Ludwig replied, closing his tired baby blue eyes. Gilbert chuckled loudly. "I guess that must mean that I'm that idiot!" He happily cheered, his laughter echoing throughout the small trench. Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer to the trio, making Ludwig crack open his eyes. Ludwig elbowed his brother, pointing a finger to his lips. "Shut up!" Ludwig hurriedly whispered. "I hear someone coming..." Roderich trailed off, staring at the top of the trench.

Dead silence was heard in the trench, neither of them made a single noise. "You must have been imagining things." A male voice above them said. "Whatever." Another man replied. The footsteps above the trio walked away, as Ludwig tiredly closed his eyes again. While a certain Austrian was sitting there, irritated and angry. "You're such an idiot Gilbert!" Roderich angrily whispered, standing up. "We could have just died then!" He continued. He looked over at Gilbert, to see him staring in a mirror. "AND YOU'RE STILL NOT LISTENING!" He shouted, making Gilbert drop the mirror. Roderich waltzed up to Gilbert and slapped his right cheek. "VHAT ZA HELL?!" Gilbert loudly shouted, jumping up. Ludwig sighed and opened his eyes, just as Gilbert pushed Roderich back. Roderich fell back into the wall, pain shooting up his back.

Roderich was about to punch Gilbert, but Ludwig intervened, holding the Austrian's wrist. "Gilbert, you need to sit down and shut it." He quietly whispered, lightly pushing Gilbert back into his seat. "Roderich, you should know better than to roar up the idiot over here." He continued, gently pushing Roderich into his seat. Gilbert muttered swears under his breath, picking up his mirror. Anger immediately filled him. "You son of a bitch! You broke the my awesome mirror! How am I supposed to see the awesome me?!" He shouted. Roderich punched the war behind him, his anger peaking. "WHO THE HELL CARES?!" He shouted, punching the wall again. Gilbert through the mirror at Roderich, hitting the Austrian's shoulder. The Austrian man stood up, about to punch Gilbert, but Ludwig pushed him down again.

Suddenly, a bomb explosion was heard behind the German men. Gilbert and Ludwig ran closer to Roderich, since the bomb explosion was behind the brothers. Ludwig picked up his shotgun, reloading it. Roderich and Gilbert followed his actions, reloading their own guns. "HANDS UP BASTARDS!" A voice shouted above them. The trio whipped their heads up, to be greeted by three men. "Gilbert, run!" Ludwig hurriedly whispered into his ear, motioning towards the cave behind them. "B-but-" Gilbert hesitated, his voice shaking. "Go!" He replied. Ludwig and Roderich begun to shoot at the intruders, while Gilbert ran behind them, into the dark cave. He blocked out the gunshots behind him as he continued running, wanting to escape it all.

_There's the opening! _Gilbert shouted in his mind, seeing the white light at the end of the cave. His heavy breathing was heard as the gunshots behind him ceased to exist. Gilbert was almost at the exit, as he reached his hand out towards it. He jumped out of the black cave, falling onto the grassy and muddy ground. Gilbert groaned as he slowly kneeled on his knees. He opened his crimson eyes as he stood up. It was a forest practically, and he ran straight through it. Branches constantly cut Gilbert's clothes and cheek. He groaned in pain as he fell down, rolling around in the mud. Gilbert layed on his back, covered in mud and grass. Pain shot up his back and thighs. Blood slowly ran out from his cuts, as he closed his crimson eyes. The sound of a gun reloading was heard above him, as he opened his eyes. He smiled at the gun in front of him.

**"At least I'll be with Roderich, Ludwig and Old Man Fritz..."**

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**Gilbert/Prussia is a nationalist, somewhat of a narcissist, who died in wartime. Explains his obsession over his country.**


	11. Chapter 11: Lovino

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 11:**

**Lovino**

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Viviana laid on the salmon covers of her wooden bed, balling her eyes out. Her husband, Luciano, sat next to her and silently cried as well. Sobs were wrecking through Viviana's body, as she shook violently. She sat up and hugged Luciano, who cradled her like a baby. "I'm sorry Luciano, I'm so sorry!" She repeatedly whispered to Luciano, who was kissing her face. "It's not your fault baby, it's no one's fault Viviana." He replied, rocking her back and forth. "It is!" Viviana replied, wiping away her tears. Luciano closed his onyx eyes and kissed Viviana's forehead. "Listen, Viviana, it's no one's fault. Lovino died from a natural cause, not from you, me or the doctors, OK?" Luciano replied. Viviana sat in silence before nodding.

Luciano pulled the drawer next to him and pulled out a large, black notepad. He opened the notepad and flipped to the second page. It was a drawing of a five year old boy. The young boy had dark brown hair and olive complexion, with staggering emerald eyes. He also had a wild curl that rests on the right side of his head. The young boy was wearing a white and green sailor outfit. Viviana almost chocked on her sobs at the drawing, as she snuggled closer to her husband. "Do you remember us talking about Lovino?" He asked, receiving a nod from Viviana. Luciano smiled as he flipped to the next page, revealing a twelve-thirteen year old. It was the same boy, but older, and wearing khaki uniform.

The Italian man flipped to the next page to reveal a page full of information. "Name, Lovino Romano Vargas. Mother, Viviana Vargas. Father, Luciano Vargas. Brother, Feliciano Vargas." Luciano read aloud to Viviana, who's tears ceased to exist. She smiled at her husband and pecked his cheek. "Mama?" A small voice was heard. The happy parents looked over to see their son, Feliciano. The little Italian boy ran over to his parents and jumped into their arms. Feliciano beamed as his mother kissed his forehead. He noticed the open notebook in his father's lap. "Papa? Who's that drawing of?" He asked, crawling to sit in-between the couple. Luciano ruffled the four year old's brown hair.

"This **was** your brother, Lovino." Luciano said, showing his son the second page. Feliciano frowned and looked around frantically. "Where is he?" He asked curiously, still looking around. Viviana held back her tears and she smiled sadly at her son. "He's in **cielo**." She replied, as Luciano rubbed her back. "What's **cielo**?" Feliciano asked, moving to sit in Viviana's lap. "**Cielo** is Italian for heaven." Luciano answered, kissing Feliciano's forehead. He nodded happily, not realising what was going on. "Come on Feli! Time for your bath!" Viviana happily shouted, standing up. "Yay!" Feliciano shouted as well, as they ran to the bathroom. Luciano chuckled happily at their antics as he picked up his open notepad again.

Luciano flipped to the next page to be greeted by a happy family of four. It was a drawing of Luciano, Viviana, Feliciano and Lovino. The family were sitting in the park, surrounded by flowers and butterflies. Luciano couldn't help but stare at Lovino, who was being hugged by Viviana. A tear fell onto his hand, as he leaned towards the drawing. Luciano kissed where Lovino was as another tear fell. "Luciano! Come help me!" Viviana's voice shouted from the bathroom. "Coming!" Luciano shouted back, standing up, still holding the notepad. The Italian man closed the notepad and kissed it. Luciano placed it back into the wooden drawer, wiping his watery eyes. He left the room, a smile etched on his face.

**"May you be forever in our hearts, Lovino."**

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**By the way, if you didn't realise, Viviana is the mother of Lovino. Lovino/Romano/Southern Italy was a stillborn twin and he died in his mother's womb. Explains his somewhat hatred for N. Italy.**


	12. Chapter 12: Vash

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 12:**

**Vash**

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Vash was sitting on the leather couch, rocking back and forth, staring at the blank TV screen. The sound of slippers shuffling on the tiles alerted the Swiss boy, making him jump up. He walked closer towards the kitchen, where the sound was coming from. Vash walked into the kitchen and jumped on the figure, pinning the figure on the tiled floor. "Ah!" A female voice shrieked. The intruder beneath Vash tried to push him off of them. "Vash! Get off!" The figure shouted. The Swiss boy reached up towards the counter and grabbed a knife. He was about to strike down at the intruder, but the intruder grabbed his wrist. "Brother, it's me! Lili!" Lili shouted, still trying to push Vash off her.

The Swiss boy's eyes widened and he silently drew away from Lili. She sat up, her heart pounding, and she grabbed the knife out of Vash's hand. Lili stood up and offered her hand to her brother-like figure. Vash looked away from Lili's hand, and he stood up himself. Lili wiped her tears away as she placed the knife on the counter top. "Why are you here?" Vash asked, stepping away from her. "I was hungry..." Lili replied, her voice shaking, as she motioned towards the food on the counter. He nodded and slowly turned around. "Sorry for scaring you..." Lili hesitantly continued, placing the plate in the sink. Her body was violently shaking as she bit her lip. Vash walked closer to her and grabbed the knife.

Lili squeaked in surprise, stepping back and she hurriedly shuffled away into the lounge room. Vash ignored her and followed her into the lounge room, grasping the knife as hard as possible. Vash walked over to the front door, as Lili shuffled to the stairs. He slipped on his black boots and was about to leave the house, but Lili captured his wrist. "Where are you going?" She asked, tugging lightly on the sleeve of his jacket. Vash gently shrugged her off his sleeve, turning towards the door again. "I'll be back soon, I'm going for a walk." He stated, opening the door. Lili still tugged at his sleeve. "Be back soon and please be careful." She pleaded, kissing his cheek. Vash blushed lightly and nodded, leaving out the door. Lili closed the door behind him, and she leaned against it. _I hope Vash will be alright. His paranoia is taking over his life..._ Lili trailed off.

Vash stood on the front porch of his house, still holding the knife. He took a step back, grabbing a pole next to him. _I can do this. No one's going to get me...take a deep breath. Just remember what the psychologist said, take a deep breath..._ He remembered, breathing in and out deeply._ I...can't do this._ Vash kneeled on the porch as he slipped his knife into his boot. _I'm just keeping the knife as... a sense of protection. I don't think I can, well, understand how to be safe. _Vash stared at the street in front of him, fear running down his spine. His legs were shaking as he walked onto the side walk, many thoughts running through his head. Vash was biting his lip as hard as he could, blood drawing.

The Swiss was walking down the road, trying to ignore his surroundings. He ignored his surroundings a little to much. People ran past him, screaming their heads off. Vash looked down to see two butterflies, one pick and one blue. He smiled and kneeled down, attempting to gently shoo them off. Vash didn't noticed the shadow drawing closer behind him. The pink butterfly flew away as he stood up, with the blue butterfly on his finger. Vash felt the barrel of a gun on his temple, causing fear and shock to run down his spine. He looked up to see a masked figure. _Please let it be Lili, God please be Lili!_ Vash shouted in his head. The masked figure kicked him down to the ground. The person reloaded the gun and aimed it at Vash. The butterfly flew from Vash's finger to next to his head. Vash smiled at the gun as the trigger was pulled.

**"I knew I was paranoid. People we're out to get me. I'm so sorry Lili..."**

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**Vash/Switzerland was a victim of paranoia. Shot by a deranged psychopath(maybe). Explains his withdrawl and permanent neutrality.**


	13. Chapter 13: Lili

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 13:**

**Lili**

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"Lili. LILI! GET OUT OF YOUR ROOM NOW!" Roy shouted, banging on Lili's door. The door opened a crack, revealing a bright blue eye. "No!" She shouted, about to close the door. Roy lodged his foot in-between the door, an angry sigh escaping his lips. "Lili, there is nothing I can do. Unless you bloody want me to get remarried!" He replied, trying to force the door open more. "Get remarried! I don't care! I WANT A BROTHER!" Lili shouted back, slamming the door shut. Roy punched the wall in rage, creating a large fist-shaped hole. He swore under his breath, as he left the hallway. Lili laid down on her pink bed, hugging her pillow close to her chest. "I want a brother." She whimpered out, tears streaming down her cheeks.

**Flashback Lili P.O.V**

_"BIG BROTHER!" Natasha happily shouted, as Ivan spun her around. I frowned and stared at my feet, trying to ignore the siblings laughter. I felt a small hand on my right shoulder, slightly startling me. I looked up to see Yekaterina, who had a solemn look on her face. "What's wrong Lili?" She asked, kneeling beside me. "I see how happy Natasha is with Ivan and... I can't help but feel jealous." I replied, as Yekaterina hugged me. "Sweetheart, aren't we you're family? Ivan, Natasha and I are your siblings. Ivan can be your big brother!" She happily explained, her excitement showing evidently. I faked a smile at the mother-like figure._

Roy laid down on his leather couch, thoughts running through out his head. What the hell is going on with that girl?! _Damn it!_ He shouted, punching the couch, causing a small indent. _God damn it! Lili hasn't eaten in ages, too long to even count_. Roy sighed aloud, sitting up diligently. He closed his tired eyes and attempted to relax. _If only Lillian didn't die... I'm not that strong to be a father. I've...been trying to the best of my abilities as a father... I've failed._ Roy snuggled into the leather couch, falling into a slight sleep.

The blonde girl walked over to her drawer and grabbed a pair of scissors. She then stared into the mirror, seeing only a little bit of her reflection. Lili stared at the blue scissors, thoughts running circling around her head. _Wait...I remember something I heard that Japanese guy say. Wasn't his name...Kiku? He said **'any colour with red, is a colour of beauty'**. _She giggled happily as she noticed the moonlight shining through her light coloured curtains. Lili turned the blue scissors so that it was facing her chest. _That means...blue and red is a colour of beauty?_ She questioned herself, staring once again at her scissors. Lili closed her dull eyes and plunged.

A small, chocked noise escaped from Lili's cracked lips, as she fell onto her knees. Blood dripped out from her chest, as she felt the scissors deep within her body. Lili bit her lower, cracked lip as blood trickled out from her mouth. She pulled the scissors out, holding back her groans of pain. Lili stared at the now-red scissors. _Hahaha! _She giggled. _Kiku was right, blue and red is a beautiful colour!_ Lili felt her consciousness slowly slip away from her, as she closed her eyes.

**"Will I have a brother in the afterlife?"**

* * *

**Lili (in this) is a teen, the flashback was at a younger age. This was the hardest to do! Lili/Liechtenstein's mother died while giving birth to her. Lili wanted a brother, but her mother was dead. Explains her love for Switzerland.**


	14. Chapter 14: Roderich

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 14:**

**Roderich**

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Roderich sat in front of his piano, humming a sad tune while playing the piano. He didn't notice Elizabeta standing beside the doorway, staring at him with a solemn look. The Hungarian woman walked over to the musician, and lightly rest her hand on his shoulder. Roderich didn't even acknowledge her appearance, only focusing on the transcripts before him. "Roderich, come down for some dinner. I made your favourite, _Rindsuppe_ and for desert, Sachertorte!" She happily shouted, hoping to tempt the Austrian. He only waved in her direction, still staring at the music sheets. The Hungarian looked down, a frown etched on her face. She walked towards the doorway and stared at Roderich.

"I'm going downstairs." Elizabeta announced, hoping for Roderich to look at her, but to no avail. He nodded and played a few singular keys. Elizabeta sighed and left the piano room, closing the door behind her. Roderich slammed his fist against the old piano, a shrieking sound echoing in the room. _I still can't get the tune right. Schisse! _He swore in his mind. Roderich stood up and paced the empty room, thinking over the possibilities, but failing in doing so. _C, B, B, A or B, B, B, A?_ He questioned himself, staring at the old piano. Roderich groaned before walking over to the large window. He slightly moved the curtain, revealing the black sky. Roderich sadly smiled before falling to the ground.

_Boss is going to kill me, if I don't get this stupid song finished._ Roderich recited in his head. He strode back over to the piano and sat down again. Roderich stared playing a solemn tune, one reminding him of sadness and regret. He immediately stopped playing, and stared at the piano notes. _Why the hell can't I do it?_ Roderich questioned himself again, as he stood up. He stared at the small, old chest beside the piano. Roderich waltzed over to it and opened. Inside was a shotgun, on top of a black cloth. He stroked the shotgun lovingly, remembering a past of war. A smile appeared on Roderich's face as he picked the shotgun up. He weighed it in the palm of his hand.

_It's either I write a deranged tune, or die. Boss will kill me either ways. He'd probably bring be back to life, just to kill me again, in a endless time loop for all of eternity!_ Roderich groaned aloud, picking up the shotgun. He held it up to his temple, ready to pull the trigger. "RODERICH!" A female voice shouted, startling the Austrian. It was Elizabeta, who attempted to knock the gun out of Roderich's hand. **Bad move**. Elizabeta accidently moved Roderich's finger, that was on top of the trigger. The gunshot echoed throughout the piano room. Elizabeta's eyes widened as she fell on her knees. Blood trickled out from the corner of Elizabeta's lips, as she fell on her side.

Roderich's eyes widened as he kneeled beside his love. His body begun to shake as he picked up the fallen shotgun. Roderich held against his head, feeling the barrel of the gun against his temple. A lone tear trickled down his cheek as he pulled the trigger.

**"Being with Elizabeta is heaven. Being with Elizabeta in heaven, is...heavenly."**

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**Roderich/Austria was a deranged musician. He shot himself while writing a song. Explains his love for the piano. Also, I NEED HELP! I need a theory for Belarus, since there are none on the internet. You will be credited :)**


	15. Chapter 15: Mathias

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 15:**

**Mathias**

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"Another beer, one less memory." Mathias recited, sorrow drenching his words, as he opened up another beer. He stared at the papers in front of him. Mathias angrily swiped the papers off his desk, falling onto the messy floor. _For fucks sake. I should've known from the beginning, but I've...just been trying to ignore the facts._ His eyes scanned over the sheet of paper, written in big, bold letters; **'Positive DNA Test!'**. _Yep, 'Mum' and 'Dad' are my biological parents._ Mathias swore under his breath and took a sip from his beer. He jumped at the slamming of fists against his door, his heart beat accelerating. "GET THE FUCK OUT, MATHIAS!" An angry, male voice shouted from behind the door, startling Mathias.

He rolled his eyes at the door and turned to his desk, still hearing the slamming of the door. Mathias noticed his soccer ball and picked it up. He threw it at the door, making a louder noise. The slamming stop and instead, the sound of footsteps leaving was heard. Mathias smirked and took another swig of his beer. He sighed, hearing shouting from beneath his feet. _This is too fucking annoying._ Mathias groaned aloud, standing up. He grabbed his keys off his desk, and put on his long, black coat. Mathias stumbled towards his door and walked down the hallway. As he trailed down the stairs, he barely dodged the flying vase. It hit the wall, the sound of it crashing resounding in the large room.

His father pushed Mathias into the wall, the shards of the vase piercing his skin. He bit back his groan of pain, and replaced it with a pained smirk. "You're drunk again! You piece of filth!" Mathias's father shouted in his face, spit flying everywhere. Mathias smirked at him and breathed into his face. "So fucking what?" Mathias replied coolly. "I guess that means I'm turning into you. A piece of trash that does nothing but drink all day." His father punched Mathias's stomach, knocking the air out of him. Mathias groaned and kicked his dad in the stomach. His father fell back as Mathias walked towards the door. "Mathias!" A stern female voice shouted, making Mathias halt.

"If you take one step outside that fucking door, don't fucking bother coming back!" The woman shouted, rage showing in her eyes. Mathias sadly smiled at her. "That would have to be the nicest thing you've said to me all my life, **Mother.**" Mathias replied opening the door. "**Hopefully he'll crash**." He heard his father whisper. Mathias slammed the door behind him and stumbled towards him Nissan Dualis. His four wheeler that he loved more than anything in the world. Well...not as much as beer. _I know I'm drunk, but I don't give a flying fuck._ He stepped into his car and started it up. _Maybe I'll visit Berwald. _Mathias thought, leaving the drive way. Every shred of hope inside him had disappeared as he drove down the street.

Mathias ignored all thoughts of reason as he drove in the direction of the countryside. He felt anger, despair and aggression wash over him. But, also a bit of relief. _Why do I feel so...relaxed? Is it the beer? Probably. I feel like my mind is sending me a message..._ Mathias was caught up in his own thoughts as he didn't notice the sign. **'Cliff Ahead'.** Mathias wouldn't have cared either way, as he was intoxicated with alcohol. _Was I not meant to be born? Was I an accident? That's what mum said to me... _The ghost of a smile reached his mouth at his next thought. _If I was an accident, mother would have gotten an abortion! I wasn't an accident! **NOW MATTER HOW MANY TIMES YOU DENY IT, YOU WERE AN** **ACCIDENT!**_ His mothers voice filled his mind and he drove off the cliff.

**"Che, how annoying. To have died with a great life, would be blissful. To die with a crap life, makes hell heaven."**

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**Denmark: Alcoholic and abusive parents. Killed in a DWI (Driving While Intoxicated) crash. This explains his arrogant attitude and alcoholism.**


	16. Chapter 16: Berwald

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 16:**

**Berwald**

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Numerous scraps of paper were thrown at Berwald, most of them hitting his temple. The Swede clenched his fist and exited the classroom, walking over to his locker. _8, 4, 2, 9_. He recited as he unlocked the pin. As soon as Berwald opened his locker, hundreds, if not thousands of papers covered the ground before him. **'Gay' 'Faggot' 'Retard' 'Lesbian' 'Go die' 'Bitch' 'Bastard' 'Go fuck yo mama!'** Berwald kicked the papers away from him and took out his Science book. "Sup fag!" A loudmouth boy greeted Berwald, slapping his back, keeping his hand there. Pain speared up his back as he held back his groan. "Quick question, um..." The loudmouth hesitated to continue, as whispers arose from the crowd that appeared around the two boys.

One of the loudmouth's friends walked over to boys and tapped his friend's shoulder. "Dude, don't touch him! You'll turn into a gay faggot, just like him!" The loudmouth let out a horrible shriek and quickly whipped his hand away from Berwald's lean back. "EW! EW! YUCK! I'M GOING TO BE GAY!" He shouted, running around his friend, in circles. The crowd laugh and giggled while Berwald had a sense of killing set in his mind. _I need to get away from here, before I do something bad..._ Berwald fled the scene, attempting to hide his rage. Caught up in his anger and despair, Berwald didn't notice a pair of sad, violet orbs staring at him. The owner of the violet eyes was crying profusely.

Berwald kicked open the front doors of the school, feeling the summer heat attack him, but he ignored it and started running. He didn't know where he was caring, nor did he even _care_ where he was going. Berwald allowed his feet to take him anywhere. _What did I do for them to say such hurtful things? I'm not gay! I don't know why I like Tino, but it's only as a friend...right?_ Berwald halted. _Do I like Tino more than a friend? Or perhaps...I love him?_ Berwald shook the thought away as he realised where he was. A small smile quickly appeared on his face. _The river..._ He trailed off. Berwald walked closer towards the water, smelling strong arouma of salt emitting from it.

The water gleamed as Berwald sat before it. He dipped his right hand into the water and smiled. _So cool, refreshing even._ Berwald felt the summer heat become more humid, as he stripped himself of his navy blue coat. He was now wearing a white dress shirt, blue tie, dark blue jeans, his socks and shoes. Berwald held his knees close to his face, as he felt a lone tear escape his eye. He stared at the water, a feeling of adrenaline and inclining washing over him. _It's either I live on being called a faggot, gay, bitch, bastard etc... And live on the rest of my life, knowing my parents hate me for my feelings._ Berwald stood up, taking off his glasses and setting them on top of his coat. _Or I end it here._

Berwald jumped into the deep river, his vision blurring. At that time, Berwald realised how deep the water was. It completely consumed him, just like the darkness that was taking over him. He smiled, a smile of never ending peace and happiness.

**"I am hated and judged for my feelings, even if I changed them, what difference would it make?"**

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**Berwald/Sweden: a victim of bullying. Drowned himself. Explains his quiet and scary atmosphere. *hugs Sweden plushie* I still love you!**


	17. Chapter 17: Emil

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 17:**

**Emil**

* * *

Emil rubbed his frostbitten hands, in an attempt to warm himself, but to no avail. Behind his black eyelashes, were his once cheerful violet orbs. Now, there was an endless pit of lifeless violet. Emil blinked his tired eyes, trying to keep himself awake. _Stay. Awake. _He ordered himself, crawling over to his rusted, broken down, bedroom door. Emil pulled and pushed at the rusty doorknob, emitting a screeching ear-piercing noise. He pulled on the door, standing himself up. Every bone inside Emil's body was either frozen solid or numb from the cold. _Still locked._ Realisation dawning on him as slammed his fist on the door, splinters spearing through his skin. The cold from the frozen night air chilled the Emil to the bone, as he fell to the floor, hugging his knees.

The Icelandic boy thought that he could, and should, be used to the cold climate in Iceland, but this certain night sent him to his limits. Wearing nothing but a old, ripped shirt and torn trousers, Emil breathed warm air onto his knees. Through the small and large cracks of the wooden floorboards, large gusts of frozen air gusts through. Emil got onto his hands and knees and crawled over to the worn down mattress. He crawled up onto the bed and sat on it, trying to ignore the feeling of the springs jabbing into his sides. Emil shivered and clenched that ripped fabric of the scrappy shirt. He sat up and held his knees, tiredness and fatigue trying to overtake him.

Emil shook his hand and punched the broken mattress, and hurriedly stood up. _I can't take this anymore! I'm starving and I know when I fall asleep I won't wake up!_ He shouted in his mind, running over to the small window beside the broken table. Emil ignored the pain spearing up his legs and arms, as he started bashing on the window, muttering 'Help! Help!'. He fell to the ground, his body completely numb. Such a simple task took up most of his energy. The Icelandic boy spit out a small groan of pain. Mustering up all of his remaining energy, Emil clenched his fists. "CAN SOMEONE FUCKING HELP ME?!" He shouted, coughing badly after that. He felt himself become drowsy and fatigue, as his vision faded to black. Emil fell on his side and coughed up dark blood. He closed his tired eyes, ignoring the fact he won't wake up from his never ending dream.

**"Why did they leave me? Am I that unwanted?"**

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**Emil/Iceland: Abandoned child. Died in an locked, abandoned house. Explains his past and how Norway found him.**


	18. Chapter 18: Lukas

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 18:**

**Lukas**

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Lukas was sitting alone in a dark room, staring at the blank ceiling above him, feeling no emotion. _Why am I even alive?_ He questioned himself. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, just as Lukas was about to stand up. "Lukas?" A sad, small voice called, opening the wooden door. It was Emil, Lukas's younger brother, holding a gold lined plate with a strawberry cake on it. "Lukas?" Emil called, striding into the dark room. Lukas shifted away from him, his back facing the door. "Big brother?" Emil called again, hoping his older brother would respond. A spark flickered in Lukas's light blue eyes and he faced him. "What do you want?" Lukas's rough voice asked. Emil kneeled before him and pushed the plate towards him.

"Eat." Emil curtly commanded, placing the fork beside Lukas. He glared at the younger boy and shoved the plate back. "I don't want any." He replied, standing up. Emil sighed at stabbed the fork into the cake, and then held the piece up to Lukas's mouth. He glared at Emil and smacked his hand away, sending the fork flying across the room. Emil stared at his older brother, shocked. An angry look appeared on his face and he left the room, leaving a solemn Lukas staring in regret. _What the fuck is wrong with me?! Damn, I feel sick... _He stared at the strawberry cake and pushed it even further away from him. _Why the fuck can't anyone understand me? Am I speaking another language, or am I just stupid?_ He questioned himself.

Lukas walked across the room to where the fork lay, with mushed cake on it. He smiled and picked it up, holding it to his lips. Lukas licked the cake off it and smiled. Although, it wasn't a normal smile. It was a twisted and dark one, which would have frightened anyone who came across him. He turned around, heading to him bed...

**With Emil...**

A sudden clutter and smash of items alerted Emil. "Lukas!" He shouted, running towards Lukas's room. _I can never leave him alone..._ Emil swore under his breath, hurriedly running towards Lukas's room. He ran into his room, shocked. "Lukas!" Emil ran over to the older Norwegian and stared at him. Blood was spilling from his head, glass and other broken objects were surrounding him. _The doctor warned me about what would happen if I left Lukas alone! _Emil remembered picking up Lukas's, laying him on the bed. "Lukas, Lukas, come on Lukas!" He called, shaking him. _"If you leave him alone, make sure there is absolutely **nothing **that he can slip on" "But why?" "Because of how weak his body and mind is, from the Bipolar Disorder, if he hits his head...there's a likeliness that he won't wake up." "You mean-?" "Yes Emil, **he will die**. And there won't be **anyway** to save him."_

Tears were streaming down Emil's pale cheeks, as he continuously shook Lukas. "Come on Lukas! Stop joking around!" He shouted. Emil raised a shaky hand towards his head, where the blood was gushing out of. _"What if, when he hits his head, it wasn't hard." "He would still die, from blood loss. I understand he already hit his head last week, correct?" "Yes, we were walking in the park and Lukas hit his head on a tree branch." "That weakened his head already, so if he hits his head again..." The doctor trailed off._ "Lukas please! If you can hear me, please wake up! I'll look after you, I'll clean your room, I'll do anything! I'll call you big brother! JUST PLEASE WAKE UP BIG BROTHER LUKAS!"

**"Emil, I'm sorry for not taking care of myself and my actions. I'll watch over you in the afterlife. Goodbye, little brother."**

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kererered ssssfwi g0w-giw-gi

**Lukas/Norway: Bipolar Disorder. Died of a stroke. Explains his monotoneness. Apologises for this chapter taking forever! I swear, it was so hard to write! Even though I researched about it, I couldn't find any information about it :(**


	19. Chapter 19: Tino

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 19:**

**Tino**

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"Don't worry Mathias, I'm completely fine..." Tino tiredly answered the phone, still lying in bed. "Tino, are you still in bed?" He asked on the other line. Tino only groaned in response, his head hitting the fluffy pillows. "...No..." He lied. He heard Mathias sigh and mutter something to someone, probably Lukas. "Fine Tino, if OK with it you, Lukas and I'll come over it a bit!" He shouted. Tino rolled his eyes, practically feeling Mathias's smile through the phone. "Well, I-" "We'll see you in two hours or something!" Mathias cut him off, hanging up. Tino threw his phone on the floor and rolled over in his bed. _Why can't they just leave me be? Damn, I'm so tired yet I can't sleep... _He trailed off in his own thoughts thinking of ways to distract himself.

_I should probably clean up a bit, I know they'll have a fit if they see the state of this place..._ Tino looked around his bedroom to be greeted by a large mess. Papers, books, movies and random items were sprawled across the room floor. He sat up, only to fall back down, his head slightly sinking into the dirty pillows. _I knew I was weak but, not this weak._ He tried sitting up again, and to his advantage, he had enough strength. _I know my friends are noticing that I never hang out with them anymore...They all know that I can't help it, I just get so tired..._ Tino swung his legs over to the edge of his bed, and stretched as he yawned. Rubbing his closed eyes, and stood up. Tino's first step out of bed made him sway really hard, almost making him fall. His next step caused fatigue to wash over his weak body.

He continued to walk, stepping over fallen books and papers. _I can be thankful for one thing. At least Peter didn't leave any Lego lying around from his last visit. _A smile grew on Tino's mouth, at the thought of his son-like friend. He leaned on the door frame, trying to prop up his fallen form. A small groan escaped his lips, pain shooting up his legs. _When's the last time I left my bed? It's been so long. Speaking of Peter, when was the last time he came? Wasn't it last month? I'm not even sure anymore..._ He trailed off, walking into his lounge room. Tino tiredly sighed when he looked around. It wasn't really messy, but it also wasn't sparkling clean. He walked over to the large window and stopped short in front of it. In front of him was a table and two chairs.

_I remember when Berwald would come over and we'd sit here, drink hot chocolate (or in Berwald's case, coffee) and just relax..._ Tino visualized the relaxing moment as he sat down in one of the antique chairs. He stared at the flower before him. It was brown and withering. A small, brown petal fell on his hand. "Poor dear. I didn't even know I had you. Then again, I haven't been out of my room in months..." Tino blew off the petal on his hand and stared at it as it fell on the floor. He looked outside the window, to see it was snowing. "Snow!" Tino shouted, jumping out of his seat. Even in depression, snow instantly cheered him up. He raced towards the wooden door, grasping the cold handle. He whipped it open, closing it behind him as he stood on the wooden porch. Tino stepped off the porch, and as soon as he touched the snow, he fell into it.

Happiness surged through out his body as he started moulding a snowball, while giggling like a five-year old. The neighbours across the road stared at Tino with an odd look edged on their face. He ignored them as he stared at the snowball he made. "If I was gone, who would care? Not Mathias, surely not Lukas, not Emil, Peter wouldn't even notice I'm gone. Berwald..." Tino grasped the snow beside him, scrunching it up in the palm of him hand. He threw the snowball down glaring at where he had thrown it.

Tino hurriedly took off his heavy jacket and thick sweater, throwing them behind him, onto the porch. He also rid himself of his thin undershirt, throwing it on the porch as well. Closing his dull violet-like eyes, he sunk into the snow on his chest. "S-so c-cold." He managed to stutter out, already feeling himself become dizzy. "B-Berwald...I-I...lo-o-..." Tino cut himself off as he fainted in the snow.

**"I'm too happy to be alive. I'm too happy to die. I'm just living a lie."**

"So yeah, Emil was being such an ass to me! Acting like he could beat- Tino!" Mathias shouted, him and Lukas running towards their friend. "Tino! TINO!" Mathias shouted, taking off his jacket. He wrapped Tino in it, in hopes of his friend surviving. "Mathias." Lukas called, holding Tino wrist. He stared into Mathias's solemn, glassy eyes. "No pulse. We've...lost Tino."

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**Tino/Finland: Winter depression victim. Died of Hypothermia, killed himself by laying in the snow bare-chested. Explains his seemingly happy, yet disturbed demeanour. Sorry for the delay! I've started being a Beta Reader, and to make matters worse, it wouldn't save! I had to re-write this three times. I'm serious :(.**


	20. Chapter 20: Peter

**Hetalia Theory Series**

**Chapter 20:**

**Peter**

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He was a mistake, something that shouldn't have happened. The woman wanted a child, she loves children. It was her dream to have a little boy, who's she could play games with, and get messy with in the backyard. He would have been her bundle of joy. But she didn't want a boy **now**. She was only sixteen years old! If her family had found out, she would have been killed for sure. Luckily her pregnant stomach wasn't showing much, and her parents just thought she was bloated. It's been a month since she found out she was pregnant. Three weeks in fact, when she found out it was a boy. Thankfully, in that long time, she didn't grow attached to the growing boy in her womb... Or had she?

"Miss Kirkland? It's your turn now." The nurse called, beckoning her to a room. A room that was going to change her life forever.

She had grown attatched to the boy. She wished it didn't have to be this way, killing an innocent child. If her child was going to be born, she already knew what to call him. **Peter**...

**"I'm sorry Peter. I couldn't be strong enough to withstand everyone's hatred."**

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**Peter/Sealand: Aborted baby, died in the womb. Explains why he can't become a country. It was meant to be this short by the way.**


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